Samueldpoetry was born Enunwa Chukwudinma S. a masters chess player. An author of so many poems. He has presented his 345poet poetic craft in many gatherings and occasions. He a member of Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) He authored How Love Is Treated, Eldorado of Contemporary Literature, CHRISACEDARUTH [The Long Awaited] which happens to be his latest book which the ebook is available online. I love to know you're here but if you dont like my face then frowning cant make me look better; please, take me as I am. Visit http://samuelenunwa.blogspot.com for more.

Month: November 2012

Some say the world is sphereAnd hard like coconut.Others took time to compareThe world to fragile things.But believe it or not

The truth was later bornWhen a brave and skinny guyWith the name Mungo ParkBegan the journey.Aided with his wrist-band compass,And a few slaves to aid his conquest,His voyage brought him to Africa’s grass,Where he hope to solve this natures test.But little did this brave Scotish explorer know,His life was about to take an unusual flow.At the beautiful trees he steared,Smiling to the birdsTalking to his mind in agreementAs he studied every single moment.In the large heart of Africa,Caution he threw beyond countlessquarters.

To explore mystery of her beauteous watersIn jointless moodHis moments fainted mute,but in his heart,Courageous to conquer.

Plenty fish were free,Plenty meats were free,Vegetables and fruitsAnd yam and cocoyamAt their finger tips.Natural birds sangFor them to enlivenFresh breezes blewFrom trees to their skinWhile meditating.Everything was greenAnd well serene,And their haggard skinWere rejuvenating.

While Mungo Park and crewMade all their tourings,Rivering and forestingBecause of the princess Adaugo,The land of Umu-ugoThey kept for resting.So enchantedBy her neck of beadsWith the waist that said to him“Oh, white man, come and get me!”

The moreAnd more that Park drew near,The princess with maidsBegan to fear,And fearedThe sightsWith no compareTo the black skinThey were born to wear.Behold-The whirling wind of adventureAs it swept Park to our princess feet.He would give anything to have her heartEven murder his heart as a loving pact,To relish her eternal kiss.

Park fantasy about Adaugo as the mother ofhis half-cast kids.“agadi chu gbu mgbada awanyor”If he can get her in his dreams then its a realityhe must bring to the fore,“Tomorrow i must make her know”,He concluded with a warm smile,As the awe cries of distant owl reminded himthe soil he lay.Adorned in his weather beaten suit,With his umbrella in hand,He headed to the igwe palace,Accompanied by his hired interpreter Alaeze.The Igwe denied his ears,” Tufia kwa!” his subjects echoed in unison,” The gods will surely forsake us,If this onye ọcha touches Adaugo.”,Nwanani the priest prophesied.Umu-ugo was in chaos,As the wind of Park’s desire blew round theclans.Adaugo wasn’t caught up in the tension wind,Somewhere in her heathen heart,She knew there is a place for Mungo ParkLo Secretly black and white met,White promised black of a grandier life inobodo oyinbo,If only igwe will let go.

Oh, pretty Adaugo!So drunk from the wine of Park’s talesShe made her intention knownTo all the maids when intendingTo elope with Mungo Park.

This life is too funnyAnd full of mysteriesFor how ways lead unto waysHas led Mungo Park,The man from ScotlandFrom the ways of truthTo the ways of loveAnd made him ran farIn forest of AfricaWith our ebony princessKnowing fully wellThe consequencesAnd the punishmentsShould the king’s subjectsCaught up with him,While running far awayWith princess and his crew.

I won’t blame Mungo ParkIf a man has not foundWhat he will die for,He’s yet fitTo be called a man.

”It’s true, they say,Uneasy lies the headThat will wear her crown.”Park told his crew“I’ve laid down my heartAnd found Africa;I must endureFor winning AdaugoWill be the rewardFor tortures we gotFrom mosquitos and coldThat paled our skin.”

Igwe in his raging tone, uttered,“Call the servants and the guards,Bring the gongs and the horns,Let the town criers inform our people,Of the missing state of our Princess, Adaugo”The gongs went round every homeDrawing the attention of Umu-Ugo.As the town criers made the anouncementOf the missing princess,The people mumured in deep shockTufiakwa! Abomination.Silence grew in Umu-UgoAs they all missed their lovely princess Adaugo.

In deep fear,Igwe became so scared.“Go insearch of her!”He ordered the guards.One after the other;With hearts beating faster; reverberatingupon the ground,They matched in their numbers.Days after days, nights after nightsThey pierced and comb through the forest.Their princess they hope to findAt the gallant adventurer’s nest.But little did this adventurer knowThat the aborigines were the king of the forest.

Mungo Park would eat a humble pieWhen the king’s subjects caught up with him.Princess AdaugoBecame short of breathSo they restedUnder the canopyOf a mango tree.The breeze the mango tree gave wasenchanting,The forest was no subject to the igwe,But it seemed it was in support of his ferventprayers,Because soon they settled down to rest

Sleep took hold of their bosom.

Park and his servant were still snoring,

When the guards found them,

And in bronze cast chains,

They were marshaled to the palace,

Where fury of the igwe,

And the shocking sights of the people awaits their return

What fate await this unfortunate adventurer and lover?If not terror to be unleashed;Courtesy of Igwe’s angerAs he waited hastilyFor their storyIgwe roared in cold rageHis ears, he could not believeAs the chiefs met their startling gazeAt the news of Adaugo’s pregnancyWhich led her to elope afar.In the raging dialect of the storms,the silent trees babling in noisy waves.Adaugo’s heart pond fast.As she beheld the hands of her lover.In grumbling hopes,

Adaugo woke the voiceless thumbs

Decayed with worries in Park’s bothered soul.In his gentle heart,

Thinking about the rage painted on the igwe’s cruel smilling face,

Hearing the news of Adaugo’s sudden pregnancy for her lover.With a heart filled with timid boldness,

Park the adventurer trudged ahead with his pretty princess.To the mission he dream to accomplish.

Oh.what an adventurer ‘mungo park’Wished he could see from afarWished he could smell the dangerIn the igwe’s heart of hearts.

Roaring in cold rageIgwe flipped his heavy handAnd stabbed Mungo ParkWhich was but a swift attackAs he fell to the groundGasping hard in dripping bloodThe princess uttered a single wordwhich was but a lenghty no“Nooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Only for her to suddenly wokeFrom such an epic dreamBack to Lynda, her normal self,A fresh student of UNILAGWho slept off while studyingHer lenghty HISTORY 102Which was tale of Mungo Park.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§ 8 THINGS I’M DOING FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Right here, right now I’m fifty five ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From my trusted robust wife ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I have a doubted twin in my life ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I know you won’t believe my life ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I ride the new peugeot 805 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I hate to eat with fork and knife ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Yet you won’t believe my life ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’m eating for the first time ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’m drinking for the first time ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’m dancing for the first time ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’m laughing for the first time ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’m bathing for the first time ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’m crying for the first time ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I’m sleeping for the first time ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I just wish you could believe my life ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I wish you could believe me at fifty five ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Did those things for the first time in my life ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ While sleeping walking after taking valium five ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Whether or not you belive my life ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Truth still remains that I’ve surprised you for the first time in my life. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ High five?!!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Samuel C. Enunwa Nov. 16, 2012 Check http://samueldpoetry.blogspot.com/ if you’ve not read: WHAT HAPPENED IN HEAVEN, MY LOUSY LASS, FELA ANIKULAPO KUTI, THE ROGUES THAT RAPED MY WIFE, CHEAP WAYS TO CURE MIGRAIN, etc. §§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

(‘_’) (‘_’) To me, criticism is nothing to me (‘_’) (‘_’) You’ll see (‘_’) If you study (‘_’) Walt Whitman’s work willingly (‘_’) (‘_’) My understanding shall meet thee (‘_’) (‘_’) If you study his poetry (‘_’) Then shall you wonder if they (‘_’) Were poetry nor tautology (‘_’) Yet they were poetry (‘_’) (‘_’) They were still poetry (‘_’) Believe me or disagree (‘_’) Great Walt Whitman still (‘_’) Holds the poetry people love to see (‘_’) (‘_’) So criticism is nothing to me (‘_’) (‘_’) Once I’ve obeyed (‘_’) The lining rules of the poetry (‘_’) I can break all rules so willingly (‘_’) (‘_’) And will still be poetry (‘_’) Whether I break my lines wrongly (‘_’) It is still poetry (‘_’) Whether I write with light meaning (‘_’) It is still poetry (‘_’) Whether I write with rhyming (‘_’) Scheme; it is still poetry (‘_’) Whether I write and bury (‘_’) Rhythm; it is still poetry (‘_’) (‘_’) Whether I write a clumpsy (‘_’) Feet of monorhyming (‘_’) It is still poetry (‘_’) (‘_’) Even if you hate me (‘_’) To call it rubbish, call it junky (‘_’) Lenghty waste of energy (‘_’) (‘_’) So far the pens still bless me (‘_’) It is still poetry (‘_’) That people love to see. (‘_’) Samuel C. Enunwa 01-11-2012 (‘_’) http://samueldpoetry.blogspot.com/ (‘_’)(‘_’)(‘_’)(‘_’)(‘_’)(‘_’)(‘_’)(‘_’)(‘_’)(‘_’)